Here is the lovely and delicate story of the best new holiday for the working class, BEERMAS:

Because I’m fed up with the Christian churches hijacking pagan festivals and painting saints all over them, I’m creating a new pagan holiday right fucking now, complete with cute fuzzy animals and enslaved workforces creating and delivering goodies AND BLOODY FUCKING DEATH to the deserving. This festival involves DRUGS AND BOOZE and is for ADULTS ONLY. The kids have enough holidays already.

The festival is one of a number of festivals called BEERMAS because I don’t care that there might be other festivals called Beermas to the extent that I’m not even googling it. Don’t care. Don’t Care. Because there are no copyrights and trademarks on traditional pagan festivals even if they’ve only existed for forty-five minutes. Got that, you intellectual-property-grubbing Wiccans? Fuck you. On with the show.

On BEERMAS, the hard-working rock hyrax named Throaty Kneecap McForehead, having filled his last keg with zebra-and-donkey-piss magically transmuted into beer, whips his hordes of enslaved brewer bush babies into rolling the kegs onto the huge razor-wheeled chariot pulled by two ass-raping, man-eating honey badgers. (One, “Lefty”, female, is pictured above. “Penisface” is never pictured, as he is known to seek out and eat photographers.) Every Friday the Thirteenth, also known as BEERMAS, around 9:05 AM Throaty K. McForehead the Rock Hyrax hops into his chariot, “Rosebud”, pulled swiftly and eagerly by Lefty and Penisface the Honey Badgers, to tour the world, stuffing the fridges of the deserving with zebra-and-donkey-piss beer AND THE BLOODY HEADS OF ALL WHO CROSS ME, their mouths stuffed with peyote buttons and magic mushrooms, before the deserving motherfuckin’ workers of the world make it back home from work to find the goodies. The undeserving will find their fridges stuffed with snakes — or would, if their own heads weren’t already in MY fridge stuffed to the gills with peyote and magic mushrooms.

Throaty, Lefty, and Penisface will heartily tie up and assfuck the layabout slackers who stay home from work on a Friday the Thirteenth without being well-and-truly-and-in-Technicolor® ill and will only stuff the fridge for the slackers if they had a good time. Everyone deserves a second chance.

For the truly sick they deliver bush-baby-made chicken soup. Made from zebra and donkey piss. Be warned.

On days while the beer is brewing and they aren’t making deliveries, Throaty, Lefty, and Penisface go bowling, and the bush babies have to keep setting up the pins.

There you go.

Merry Fucking BEERMAS.

I’ve written to Throaty Kneecap McForehead the Happy Fucking BEERMAS Rock Hyrax asking if there’s any slack to be cut for the fifteen percent of Americans who would be hard workers if they chose but are currently unemployed or in an alcoholic coma from having drunk way way way too much during the Superbowl. After delicate negotiations to find a common language (finally settled on Swahili — the hyrax is African, donchaknow) I determined that McForehead is a swell hyrax with a heart of gold, but there will be NO MERCY FOR SLACKERS.

McForehead states in NO UNCERTAIN TERMS that if you are unemployed, your new job, for which you shall be busting ass without any thought of taking a break to play Halo, is to find a new goddamn job.

In order to be a recipient of the Happy Fucking BEERMAS Rock Hyrax’s intoxicatingly awe-inspiring generosity, unemployed persons WILL HAVE A COMPLETED AND UPDATED RÉSUMÉ stuck to his or her fridge with some clever magnet thingy and copies of five job applications completed and submitted with timestamps on ’em dated somewhere between the sixth and the twelfth of the month inclusive and sitting on the counter nearest the fridge awaiting filing.

If the résumé on your fridge is missing when you get home, that means Penisface thought it looked promising and knows of someone who should have a look at it. Penisface is a social networking genius, as you could probably guess from the name.

Keep in mind that during this next month it is essential that there is to be NO SLACKING OFF, as the next Happy Fucking BEERMAS is NEXT MONTH, In March. February and March are (strictly platonic) buddies like that and have all their days of the weeks and dates lines up to match, at least until you run off the end of February. March is a bit longer but men don’t particularly discuss such things even when they notice.

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Technically it’s the bloody heads of all who cross ladykinbote, since this part was her idea.

This one time I was fixing breakfast and I found an owl in my orange juice. It was a small thing, probably not old enough to fly, apparently sealed into the cardboard carton at the packaging plant. I’m not one of those people who look for impossible-to-lose lawsuits as a kind of a lottery, but […]